


Arms to Hold You

by lebluejay



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, No Beta, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:20:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lebluejay/pseuds/lebluejay
Summary: Saying that your only two “friends” were your dad and a little girl that lives inside of your head probably wasn’t something to mention to your co-workers.Byleth needs to make friends and a few select Golden Deer may be the ones to help.A work delving into what happens during the week the little pixel Byleth runs through. This piece will follow Byleth and Claude's touchy relationship as the year progresses and beyond.





	1. The Laugh

**Author's Note:**

> Byleth Has No Friends And Claude Doesn't Trust Her
> 
> (also be nice to me this is my first fic yay)

Byleth sat in the empty classroom alone, which wasn’t at all unusual. It was just her, her lesson plans, and her worn, creaky desk. She reveled in the beautiful simplicity of it—contrasting the chaos and gore of the battlefield. That’s what these moments were all for. Peace now, battle later, then hopefully more peace. It was a brutal cycle that her students had voluntarily (or involuntarily) signed up for. However, it was the only life that Byleth knew, so she didn’t quite know what she was missing out on.

Being a teacher seemed relatively cushy compared to her life as a mercenary. A steady paycheck and a consistent place to rest her head every night—what a concept! She thought of the times where work was sparse and she’d spend her nights with Jeralt , asleep in a musky barn, and nestled in hay meant for horses. Or when they’d divide their rations to last them until they got to the next village, hoping someone would trade food for their services (or, you know, money). It wasn’t bad all of the time, but Byleth certainly was not complaining about her new career move.

The cathedral bell tolled and snapped Byleth to attention. She swept her coat off of her timeworn chair, stepped out of her classroom, and briskly made her way across Garreg Mach. Byleth pulled her coat closer to herself, defending her body against the frigid winds of the Red Wolf Moon.

Byleth plodded across ancient stone and worn wood to the second floor conference room. It wasn’t utilized very often, but the space was used for occasional meetings and strategic battle discussions amongst knights and faculty. Seteth liked to have weekly check-ins with the professors to hear about their lesson plans, the students, etc.—one of which Byleth was heading to now.

Seteth, Manuela, Hanneman, and Byleth gathered in the airy chamber, its ornate tables and wooden chairs welcoming for a party much larger than their own. They gave their weekly updates and feedback spiel—a process Byleth was more than used to by now.

“I am glad to hear that the students are keeping high morale despite the frightening events outside and within the Monastery,” Seteth commended with a serious expression, “Professor Byleth, please continue to check in with me on preparations made for your mission.”

Oh yes, the trek to Remire Village. Luckily, she never had to sleep in a barn there. They needed to investigate the strange behavior of the town’s inhabitants. She thought about the people she’d work jobs for in the village and hoped that they were safe. She hoped that she could keep her students safe as well. Byleth was always nervous to engage her students in real-life battles, but they were all more than capable of handling themselves at this point.

Byleth simply nodded at Seteth, gathered her notes, and began to rise from her chair when Seteth stopped her—

“One more thing, Byleth.”

“Yes?”

“It’s been half a year since you’ve started teaching here. I know our current situation is not…ideal, but I do want to know how you’re feeling.”

Byleth blinked. She had not expected a personal question from _Seteth_. Apparently neither did Manuela,

“My, how considerate of you, Seteth!” She sang with a giggle, “Yes, please tell us Byleth! Have we grown on you?”

Well, it’s been six months, Byleth sure felt adjusted more or less. It would be strange if she did not.

“Yes, I’ve really enjoyed my time here,” Byleth said with a polite smile, “I feel very comfortable, thank you.”

Seteth leaned back in his chair and let out a content sigh, “I see. That’s good to hear.”

Byleth started to make her way towards the door again but was stopped by Manuela,

“Oh don’t stop, there! I want to hear what you’ve been up to! Any friends?” Manuela then added with a gasp, “Any _suitors_?”

Hanneman scorned, “That’s quite inappropriate, Manuela,” he then turned to Byleth, “You don’t have to answer those questions, Professor. Please excuse her prying.”

Byleth pondered the question for a moment. Of course she had friends at the Monastery! For one, she had Jeralt and he was her best friend, always would be. Also, she had Sothis, who arguably knew her better than she knew herself. She drew a breath in to explain but then stopped herself before the words rolled out of her mouth.

Saying that your only two “friends” were your dad and a little girl that lives inside of your head probably wasn’t something to mention to your co-workers. Instead, Byleth fumbled with her response.

“W-Well,” Byleth stuttered, “I’m really only close with Jeralt. To be honest, I really don’t spend much time with anyone else, besides inviting people to the occasional cup of tea.”

The thing is though, it really didn’t bother her. For one, Sothis was always with her. Always. So she never truly was alone (even if she wanted to be). Secondly, it didn’t matter to her who she was friends with. As long as she taught her students well and nobody died in battle, she’d consider her duty to the Monastery fulfilled. She and Jeralt weren’t going to stay here forever, were they? Any sort of relationship or friendship was secondary. Not to say that she didn’t get close to her students, but it was only professional and not much deeper.

“Oh, I had no idea,” Seteth said, a little wide-eyed, “Well, I’m not one for many social gatherings myself, but you are more than welcome to join Manuela and I whenever she insists on taking me away from my work.”

Manuela let out a short laugh, “Don’t act like it’s such a burden! You like going out with me and you know it.”

Seteth cleared his throat, “Regardless, you should never feel alone here, you are an incredible asset, and the invitation has been extended.”

“No offense to either of you,” Hanneman interjected, “But I think it may be beneficial if she finds friends closer to her age. Travelling around your whole life certainly sounds like it’d mature someone quickly, and hardly leaves room for making friends,” he cocked an eyebrow at Byleth, “Am I wrong?”

“No, that’s pretty accurate,” Byleth responded. She didn’t have many friends growing up at all. Sometimes, she would play with the children in the villages she and Jeralt would visit, but she’d have to forget them as soon as it was time to move on. It made her sad, sure, but it was her way of life. It was hard to wrap her head around the idea of being loyal to someone of different blood.

“What do you mean, Hanneman? Byleth and I are practically the same age!” Manuela countered. Everyone stared blankly back at her.

“Anyway,” Hanneman continued, “It may be worth talking to some knights, perhaps? I bet someone like Catherine or Shamir would love to spend time with you besides sparring. And they have a similar mercenary background as you.”

“Sure, that’s a good idea, but _I _think it may be worth getting closer to the students,” Manuela proposed a little too coyly. Seteth scoffed and rolled his eyes--

“Oh, don’t be inappropria—!"

“I don’t think it’s inappropriate at all!” Manuela cut him off, “I think it’s safe to guess that Byleth is only a couple of years older than them. I’d argue she’d feel more at place amongst her own students! She spends so much time with them anyway.”

“Hm,” Hanneman pondered with a hand in his goatee, “She does have a point. They’ve risked their lives for each other numerous times, there’s got to be some sort of bond there.”

Seteth huffed and turned to Byleth, “Professor, I trust that are aware of your professional boundaries by now. It is always good to get along with your students, but be cautious and don’t undermine your own authority. We want you to feel comfortable here and it is crucial to promote a sense of unity between students, teachers, and knights alike. After all, we are all fighting for the same cause. But be smart.”

“I understand the importance,” Byleth said with a nod, “I will do my best.”

“Very well, you are all dismissed,” Seteth said.

Byleth wandered back to her personal quarters deep in thought. The fact that one of her critiques was to simply make friends made her laugh to herself. Though, if it were so simple, she supposes it wouldn’t have been a problem.

Even though the relationships weren’t that deep, she’s been having a great time with her students in the Golden Deer house. The majority seemed to like her and found her expertise useful, which was a relief given that she had never taught before. Leonie seemed to dislike her, which Byleth didn’t understand. She would have thought that their mutual admiration for Jeralt would bring them closer, but it only made Leonie see Byleth as competition. It was unfortunate, but it only made Leonie train harder, so Byleth didn’t mind. Training would only make her more useful on the battlefield, even if it was out of spite towards Byleth.

Despite choosing to lead the Golden Deer, Byleth found herself bonding with many of the kids from the Blue Lions House too. Felix _insisted _that they spar together and Byleth indulged often, given that not many Golden Deer students were interested in swordsmanship. Sparring with Felix turned into lance matches with Sylvain, and soon enough she put every Blue Lion through the ringer. She’d even let some of them tag along for Golden Deer missions if they begged her enough.

Her bond with the other house wasn’t that out of the ordinary. Ever since the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, inter-house mingling was deeply encouraged and that included the professors as well.

She wasn’t sure where she stood with the Golden Deer House Leader, Claude. She knew her past was unusual and unfortunately Claude fell into the category of people that didn’t trust her because of that. He never treated her maliciously, but he constantly berated her with questions about her past—ones she did not have the answers to. It intrigued her as much as it intrigued him.

Regardless, it seemed as far as making friends went, she was off to an okay start.

She made her arrival to her personal quarters, but was stopped before she could go inside—

_“Spending our free time alone again, are we?”_ came the intrusive voice of Sothis.

_“Is that wrong?” _Byleth asked.

_“Your colleagues just had a meeting to tell you that you didn’t have friends, and what do you do? Immediately go spend time by yourself,” _Sothis scoffed.

_“Well, I was going to look over my lesson plans—”_

_“They’re perfect, trust me,” _Sothis interrupted,_ “I would know. I’ve spent as much time staring at them as you have.”_

_“Then what do you suggest I do instead?” B_yleth implored, not hiding her irritation.

_“Anything. Talk to anyone,” _Sothis stated simply,_ “Your origins are already suspicious. Do you think isolating yourself will make you seem any less of a threat?”_

Sothis was right.

_“I know I am.”_

_“I wasn’t talking to you.”_

And with that, Byleth turned on her heel and stalked away from the dorms. Maybe she would see if Catherine or Shamir were at the training grounds and were up for a friendly spar.

* * *

Claude sat perched on the roof of the training grounds, a couple of books and journals spread around, his training bow thrown in the pile. He liked being up there, even if the crisp air chilled him through his layers. His height advantage allowed him to observe people, learn their habits, their secrets, whatever he needed.

He had been observing one particular person lately--Professor Byleth. It seemed that the deeper he went with his research, the more complicated and confusing she was. The strangest part about it was that Byleth didn’t even seem to mind. She knew so little about herself that she almost welcomed every one of Claude’s discoveries or theories. Claude was literally _researching _her, why didn’t that weird her out?! Claude kind of wanted her to get mad at him at least, then maybe she’d actually show an emotion. But perhaps that was her strategy all along. If the enemy didn’t know what you were thinking, you had the advantage.

But this was Claude’s break from that. A couple of people had gathered to train during the free block of the day. He snacked on an apple as he watched Felix spar with an unenthused Sylvain. Felix swiped his sword between Sylvain and his lance, effectively disarming him, then pinned him to the harsh stone floor.

“If you’re going to fight me, at least try!” Felix scorned the redhead laying limply underneath him, lifting him slightly by the front of his shirt.

“Felix, I don’t _want _to spar! We had training block all morning, I want to _sleep_.” Sylvain whined, not budging.

Claude checked his notes to see if that was accurate. Yep, Blue Lions were scheduled for combat training this morning. Poor Sylvain.

Just then, Professor Byleth of all people came entered the training grounds, wrapping her hands with gauze. Claude flipped through the pages in his journal. Since it was their free block of the day, that meant the people most likely to spend it training were…Felix, Leonie, Caspar, Lorenz, Ingrid, Raphael and Dimitri. Not her. Interesting that Teach decided to come train without one of her students dragging her along with them.

Byleth started to make her way towards Catherine, who was currently training with a dummy, but didn’t even make it five steps. Felix let Sylvain drop with a thud and stalked over to Byleth like she was her prey.

“Professor, fight me.” Felix drew his training sword and pointed it in her face.

“I was actually hoping to get some hand-to-hand combat training in, not swords today,” Byleth took a gauzed hand and pointed the sword away from her, “Sorry.”

Felix haphazardly threw his sword behind him and hit Sylvain in the face, still laying on the ground.

“Ow! Watch it!” Sylvain yelled out. Felix ignored him and assumed a combat stance.

“Try me.” Byleth thought it over for a moment.

“Okay, sure. Usual rules,” Byleth readied herself, “First to pin the other wins. And…go!”

Claude watched the two battle. They pushed and pulled with strength and fluidity, blocking every jab they hurled at each other. It went on for a while, but Teach let out a wonky kick, allowing Felix to catch her leg, get her off balance, and send her to the ground.

“Tsk,” Felix stayed pinned above her, “I guess nobody is a worthy opponent for me today.” This peeved Claude. He didn’t know what irked him, but he shifted uncomfortably, feeling like he had to do something.

He didn’t have to. Felix released Teach. Claude watched Byleth’s face as Felix sauntered away from her, a smirk on his face. She paused as she seemed to be pondering something—donning the same blank face she always had. She then sprang into action, leapt at Felix and swept his knees, causing him to fall forward on his face. Felix nearly faceplanted into the concrete, which would have surely broken his nose. And. Teach. LAUGHED.

Byleth Eisner, wielder of the Sword of the Creator, laughed like a twelve-year old girl.

He had never heard her laugh before. Ever. And he was easily the funniest guy at the Academy—no, the _Monastery_. Maybe a polite giggle, but not a full-bellied _laugh_. Claude spazzed, frantically inked his quill, and found a blank place in his journal to write down everything he remembered about her chuckle. It was staccato, lilted, and surprisingly feminine, much like a bird’s song. Claude rolled his eyes at himself, suddenly feeling a lot like Lorenz.

“That’s foul play!” Felix angrily yelled.

“You never made me yield,” Byleth retorted, “That’s bad form.”

That just angered Felix more. He grabbed his training sword off of the ground and charged after her. That just made Byleth laugh harder as he began to chase her across the training grounds. This was downright out of character.

Claude sunk his teeth into his apple, ripped a chunk off of it, and chewed as he lazily readied his training bow. He closed an eye and aimed at his moving target. An arrow went flying from Claude’s bow and hit Felix’s sword, knocking the weapon out of his hands. Felix skidded to a stop and whipped his head towards Claude, eyes wide in shock.

“Come on, you can’t keep Teach all to yourself,” Clause called to him from his perch, “Let some of us have a turn.”

Byleth slowed down, looked up, and met Claude’s gaze at his roost. She gave him an amused grin. Not the laugh he was hoping for, but still nothing to be upset about.

“Well then why don’t you come down here and _take_ her then!” Felix yelled at him.

“Um, one, gross,” Claude tutted at the unintentional euphemism as he loaded his bow again, “Two, that’s bad strategy, Felix. You know that higher ground has—” he fired his bow at Felix’s feet again, causing him to leap out of the way, “—the advantage.”

Felix scoffed, “I’m not dealing with this today,” he collected his sword and yanked Sylvain off of the ground, pulling him along as he stomped away.

Byleth strolled towards Claude, adjusting her wrappings. He couldn’t help but marvel that even her simplest movements held such grace and dignity. And she wasn’t even aware of it. She reminded him of a Lily—beautiful but dangerous (due to its poisonous properties, which of course Claude knew about, it’s the easiest poison ingredient to get at the Monastery). Claude cringed at the cheesy comparison. Okay yeah, he’s never talking to Lorenz again.

“Hey, Teach, what’s up?” Claude asked between apple bites.

“How’d you get up there?”

“Uh-uh, not telling you,” Claude teased, “It’s a knight’s job to thoroughly survey the battleground before engaging in a fight, I’m just doing what you taught me.”

“Interesting. I guess you have been paying attention to me in class.”

“I guess so.”

Claude’s breath hitched in his throat as he locked eyes with Byleth, lost as to what to say. Of course he paid attention to her! Though Claude was wary of her, he could not deny that her past as a mercenary made her an excellent teacher. He would never say that to her face though. Whenever Claude got an answer right or drafted a successful tactic on the board, she would give him a reassuring arm squeeze and a prideful smile—punctuating whatever words of encouragement fell from her lips. He absolutely lived for those moments. Not because of her, mostly just to prove how smart he was, or that he was better than Lorenz. Yeah, definitely those things.

His life was saved as a pale arm flew over the side of the roof. Hilda hoisted herself up, out of breath. She rolled over to Claude she huffed between words—

“I did it, Claude…I found a way up.”

Just then, the bell tolled and it was time for their next block—magic lessons with Byleth.

“Well, I hope you can get back down as easily as you got up. I’ll see you in class,” Byleth began to walk away but paused to add, “Oh, and if you’re late, I’ll double your kitchen duty.”

Hilda groaned, “You’ve _got _to be kidding me! The one time I actually _try _to do something!”

“Well good luck, Hilda! See you in class!” Claude gathered his things and started to skillfully scale one of the pillars.

“Claude, don’t you _dare _leave me here! CLAUDE!!”

But he did. Claude sprinted away from Hilda, laughing the whole time.

“Asshole.”


	2. The Scare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids have alcohol and opinions uh-oh.

Claude sat at his desk, books open and spilling over the surface. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, but he was hoping the answers lied in the aging pages. The mess extended beyond his desk and various tomes were strewn across his bed, readings he set aside to get back to later.

He let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and tracing the image of the Flame Crest inside of his head. Why did his professor have this supposedly extinct gift? Though he was riddled with uncertainty, what Claude _did _know was that whoever she was loyal to had a powerful weapon on their side—and Claude really hoped it was his. He didn’t know that one could simultaneously admire and distrust a person, but somehow that’s the way he felt about her. It was incredibly confusing. She was unbelievably skilled on the battlefield and a great teacher, who wouldn’t admire that? But then again, with so much mystery shrouding her origins, it would be foolish to blindly follow her.

Any further musings were interrupted as Hilda swung open the door, unannounced, with Leonie at her side. Claude barely looked up.

“I could have been naked, ya know,” he stated simply, trying to stay focused on the passage he was reading.

Hilda sighed, “Then that would certainly make this dull Sunday night more interesting, don’t you think?” She crossed the room and swept the books off of Claude’s bed, sending them thudding to the floor.

“Yeah, sure, not like I was reading those anyway.”

Hilda ignored him and threw herself down on the mattress, “We’re booooooored, Claude! Let’s have people over.” Leonie followed and closed the door behind her.

“And do what?” Claude swung his legs around so he was straddling the chair, facing her.

“Anything,” Leonie responded before sitting down next to Hilda.

Almost on cue, Sylvain kicked the door open again and burst into the room. Claude mentally noted to ask Professor Byleth to teach a lesson on knocking.

“Look what I’ve gooooot!” He sung out triumphantly. Raised in his right hand above his head was a large bottle full of amber liquid. Hilda gasped and crawled across the bed to get a better look.

“What’d you get?!” she asked. Sylvain turned the bottle in his hand to read the label, then handed it to her.

“Some sort of whiskey imported from House Aegir,” Sylvain concluded, “Felix was sweet-talking Manuela while he was getting fixed up. I saw this under her desk and swiped it!”

“I’d hardly call discussing my wounds-- ‘sweet-talking’,” Felix slipped in the door past Sylvain with an eye roll, “I don’t know what you’re so happy about. We can just buy alcohol at the market.” Felix swiped a pillow from the bed and slunk against the wall beside Claude’s chair.

“I’d argue an intricate plot is more fun than taking the easy way out,” Claude countered with a wink.

“Exactly!” Sylvain agreed, “Besides, Seteth would kill us if he caught us buying liquor.” Sylvain sunk on the bed and squished himself between Hilda and Leonie, causing them both to scoot over a couple of inches, “Maybe I could get Professor Byleth to buy some for us next time. She seems chill.”

“Not ‘chill’ enough to buy alcohol,” Felix scolded, “She’s a teacher, you idiot.”

“I kind of feel bad for her,” Hilda mused, “Life travelling around as a mercenary…I doubt she ever spent time with people her age, let alone made many friends.”

“Like she even knows her age,” Claude added.

“I’ve heard…rumors,” Hilda began, “One of the knights I used to date told me that Captain Jeralt abandoned the Monastery with a baby like, twenty years ago. What if that baby is our professor?”

“Leonie?” Claude turned his attention to her, “You would know better than us if that were true or not.”

“He didn’t _abandon _the Monastery, he’s not a coward!” Leonie scoffed, “I heard he made a _strategic move_ to _leave _the Monastery with a baby. I don’t know, or care, if it was the professor or not. It’s all rumors anyway.”

“Well, if it is true, it’s got to be the professor,” Sylvain reasoned, “Unless Captain Jeralt took up an interest in kidnapping.”

“Assuming the professor is even his kid at all,” Leonie grumbled.

Hilda took a swig of the whiskey, scrunched her nose, and passed it to Sylvain.

“Well if that baby was the professor then she’s gotta be what, twenty? Twenty-one?” Hilda questioned, “She’s hardly older than us!”

“She’s _my _age!” Sylvain exclaimed. “I totally have a chance!” He took a celebratory pull of liquor with his fist pumped in the air.

“Yeah, right,” Felix said with a chuckle, “Once again, she’s a teacher. I doubt she’d risk her job for the likes of you.”

“Oh, so you think she’d risk it all for you instead?” Sylvain teased.

“Wha—” Felix’s eyes went wide, “That’s not what I meant!”

“Honestly, I bet we’re the ones at risk,” Claude suggested, fingers tracing the wood of his chair absentmindedly.

“What’s _that _supposed to mean?” Hilda questioned with furrowed brows.

“Ever since the professor came to the Monastery, stuff’s been a little…off, to say the least,” Claude pointed out, “Who’s to say she’s got nothing to do with it?”

“I agree,” Leonie stated strongly, “Everything has spiraled out of control since she showed up.”

“What are you implying? That Professor Byleth is conspiring against the Church of Seiros?” Felix queried, arms crossed, “What would her motive be?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know,” Claude retorted, “Why agree to teach here in the first place?”

“Hey, didn’t you meet her as she was saving _your life_?” Sylvain questioned, “And it sounds like it was Jeralt that got roped into coming back to the Monastery. She was just going along with it.”

“Supposedly,” Claude responded through tight lips, “But who knows where her loyalties lie? Jeritza betrayed us. Professor Byleth has been here for like, half a year. What makes Teach more trusted over him?”

“OMG Claude, she’s not like him at all!” Hilda retorted, “Jertiza was super creepy, the professor has been nothing but nice to us.”

“Yeah,” Felix started, “I’ve sparred with him countless times, he was always suspicious to me.”

“Just because she’s not ‘creepy’ doesn’t mean she’s not involved,” Claude reasoned.

“Why don’t you just try to bond with her more?” Hilda suggested, “I bet you’d forget all of your silly suspicions towards our dear professor if we all just got to know her better.”

Leonie snorted, “Or you’d find out if they’re true” She took the bottle from Sylvain and took a long sip of the amber liquor.

Claude pondered the idea for a moment. Leonie reached across the room to Claude to offer the bottle of whiskey. If he took the time to bond with the professor, that would make his surveillance of her a lot easier. It’s as the saying goes, keep your friends close but your enemies closer. He had yet to decide if Byleth was a friend or foe, but either way it wouldn’t hurt to spend time with her. Maybe her true colors would be revealed to him. He took a swig of the whiskey before deciding, “It’s not a bad idea.”

“Yay!” Hilda cheered, “You can’t have enough friends!”

“And we can learn her weaknesses,” Felix added.

Hilda sprung up on the bed, “Oooh, we should have a class party!” She threw her arms in the air, “Or a sleepover! Oh Goddess, Claude _please _let us have a sleepover!!”

Claude couldn’t help but laugh at his best friend’s enthusiasm, “I don’t think that’s my call to make. But maybe.”

Claude passed the bottle to Felix. He sat up, took a swig, and choked on the liquor, its potency catching him off-guard. He coughed furiously, causing his crest to spring to life and light up the room. The force sent Felix’s body flying back and his head thwacked against the wall. Everyone burst out laughing and Sylvain toppled over on the floor. Felix’s face turned a deep shade of pink at his crest’s chaotic nature.

“Shut up!” Felix yelled, embarrassed, “You all wish you had a crest this powerful!”

“Not me!”, Sylvain bellowed out, tears starting to stream down his face.

Conversations of allegiances and battles were soon forgotten as they drank and chatted through the night. Everyone was thoroughly drunk and it soon became time for their festivities to end. Sylvain volunteered to walk Leonie back to her dorms at the opposite side of the Monastery. Claude volunteered to make sure Sylvain actually came back.

Leonie was unusually touchy-feely with Sylvain and Claude, clinging to the boys’ arms as they walked back, but Claude was too drunk to care. The familiar image of the Monastery distorted in front of their very eyes—drunkenness and darkness clouding their perception. It was supposed to be freezing outside, but the alcohol in Claude’s system caused warmth to spread throughout his whole body, so he didn’t really notice. They got Leonie safely inside of her room but their antics weren’t over yet.

“Claude, Claude, hey,” Sylvain whispered, hitting Claude on the shoulder. They stood in the dark outside of the dorms.

“What is it, ’m listenin’” Claude slurred.

“You know who’s scared of ghosts?”

“Lysithea is,” Claude snorted, “Baby.”

“Oh, well Ashe is too.”

“So?”

“Let’s go prank him!”

A…scheme?! Of course Claude was in.

“Why? What are we gonna do?” Claude asked, swaying slightly on his feet. Usually he would make the schemes, but he’s always interested in seeing a fellow artist work.

“Let’s knock on his door, hide, and when he answers, we’ll jump and scare him!” Sylvain whispered excitedly, “It’d be funny! I bet he’s still awake.”

The boys ran off to the other side of the dorms in a giggly mess. They stopped at the north end of the building.

“W-which one is it, Sylvain?” Claude asked, clamping a hand on his buddy’s shoulder.

“Uhhh…” Sylvain took a hot minute staring at the doors in front of him.

“I think it’s…that one!” Sylvain jutted a finger out at the door on the far right.

“You _think_?” Claude pressed. But before Sylvain could answer he was already running up to the door, beckoning Claude to follow. Claude scurried into position just as Sylvain banged his fist against the wooden door.

They waited and for a moment, it seemed like whoever was inside wasn’t going to answer. Suddenly, Claude heard the door creak open and he immediately sprung at them, yelling, “BOO!”

Claude was swiftly kicked in the stomach, had the wind knocked out of him, and was crushed against the Monastery wall. He felt a dagger pressing against his neck, the cold iron contrasting his hot skin. The assailant’s body was flush completely against his and kept him locked against the stone wall.

“…Claude?”

Claude finally dared to open his eyes to see Byleth’s own staring back at his. He had never seen her face like this. Her brows were furrowed in anger but her eyes were filled with confusion—emotions he had rarely seen singularly, let alone put together. It should have scared him, but he was only captivated. He tried to memorize this expression, he _needed _to write about it in his journal.

The rest of his body slowly became aware of Byleth pressed against him. She was only wearing a modest, black nightie that reached her mid-thighs—her cloak thrown on haphazardly. An ivory white leg was pushed between his own, so close to, well, a place he really needed to ignore right now. Thinking about all of it made his body heave with…desire? Claude knew that was gross, it was Teach for crying out loud! But the alcohol in his system begged to differ. Byleth’s face was only inches from his and he wondered if her lips felt as velvety as they looked.

“Woah, Professor, you look _ravishing _this evening,” Sylvain stepped out of the shadows. Byleth jumped and pointed the dagger at Sylvain instead.

“Sylvain?! What are you two doing?!”

“H-heh, sorry, Teach,” Claude offered. Byleth turned her attention back to him.

“Do I smell…alcohol on your breath?” Byleth stepped off of Claude and his body slumped, immediately missing the warmth of her skin. She clutched her cloak closer around her to compensate for the freezing air, “Have you two been drinking?”

“Pssh, no,” Sylvain claimed, but the swaying on his feet gave him away.

“Oh Goddess, you have!” Byleth scorned. Byleth grabbed both of the boys by their wrists and dragged them into her room, probably so nobody else caught them. Claude knew that this was not a good thing, but the alcohol caused his stomach to flip at the contact.

“Woah, Professor! Buy us dinner first!” Sylvain joked as Byleth quickly shut the door behind them.

Teach’s room was surprisingly cozy. It looked exactly like every other dorm in the building, but it somehow seemed more warm and inviting. Only a couple of candles were lit, due to it being late at night, but it just made the space feel even more quaint. Also, there was a cool messenger owl in the corner. Why didn’t Claude have a cool owl???

“Keep it down!” Byleth scorned in a hushed tone, “This is serious, students aren’t supposed to have alcohol.”

“Well, Teach,” Claude smiled lazily “We technically don’t have any alcohol _on_ us, do we?” Byleth rolled her eyes and Claude’s grin grew larger.

“I should report both of you to Seteth,” Byleth stated, arms crossed tightly, cloak still pulled around herself.

“Professor, noooooo!” Sylvain whined, “He’s so mean! Last time he caught me even looking at Flayn, he made me do his laundry for a month!”

Byleth let out a sigh, “Well, to be honest, I don’t really care about alcohol,” she admitted, “You could go into town and get a drink right now if you really wanted to. But I have to listen to rules.”

“Soooo, you’re gonna let us off the hook because you’re super cool?” Claude suggested with a cocked eyebrow.

“Soooo, I’m going to give you both detention and you’re going to thank me,” Byleth said with a furrowed brow and hands on her hips.

“Yaaay!” Sylvain ran up to Byleth and crushed her in his embrace, “You’re the best!”

“And you’re drunk,” Byleth tried to pry herself out of his hold, “Now go back to your dorms before anyone catches you.”

“Just a little longer…” Sylvain said with a dreamy sigh, not letting go.

“Or, we could go see Seteth right now if you want—”

“Let’s go, Claude!” Sylvain called, springing out the door. Byleth shushed after him.

Before he followed, Claude leaned into Teach,

“Hey, thanks, Teach,” he whispered breathily in her ear. She smelled…fresh, like cucumber or green tea. He lingered a little longer than he should have and heard the professor shudder next to him, probably because Sylvain left the door open, “Oh, sorry,” Claude regretfully retreated and made his way to the doorway, “See you in class!”

Claude couldn’t tell if his face was hot from what happened just now or if it was still warm from the alcohol. He chose not to think about it and tried to catch up with Sylvain.

* * *

Byleth shut the door. She could physically feel her that she was flushed and was thankful that the lowlight concealed it.

“_What was that?” _Sothis asked, astonished.

_“They had alcohol, I punished them,” _Byleth lawfully stated.

Sothis scoffed, _“I wasn’t referring to that.”_

_“Nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about_.”

_“Whatever you say_.”

Yes, it was nothing. Despite the cold night, her quarters felt hotter than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: do not flirt with a teacher irl. Teachers, don’t flirt with your students. Power dynamics are real and should not be abused. But this is fiction and fiction is fun!
> 
> Thanks for reading, you all have been so nice!! :)


	3. The Preposition

Claude never knew it before now, but sunlight had to be the most irritating thing in existence. He pulled his monastery-issued covers up around his face, but that did not stop the light from bleeding through and berating his closed lids. A dull ache pulsed through his head and the slight queasiness in his stomach reminded him of what transpired the night before.

Oh no.

The memories came flooding back, causing Claude’s sore body to cringe beneath the cotton blankets. He remembered Teach throwing him against the wall, legs entangled with his, how he should have been shocked but…liked it? Her face was twisted into the cutest little pout and her lips looked pretty soft and--

Gross, gross, gross, gross, GROSS. Stop. Stop it, Claude. He’s supposed to be investigating her, not conjuring hypotheses as to how her lips felt. Not to mention, he still doesn’t really trust her. He physically let his body relax, it’s not a big deal. He’s a young man, she’s an attractive woman, he was drunk, of course he felt flirty. It was a mixture of alcohol, hormones, and basic human instinct to blame, not Claude.

A loud knock on his door interrupted Claude’s wallowing in confused attraction **_, _**“Gooooood morning, Golden Deer! Time to start the day!” rang the triumphant voice of Lorenz. Okay, turns out sunlight wasn’t the most irritating thing in existence. That title fell to Lorenz.

Usually, it was the House Leader’s job to go door to door for wake-up call, but Claude had repeatedly proven that he lacked the self-will to get up early enough to do it. Lorenz was more than happy to pick up the responsibility, elated for another way to prove Claude’s shortcomings as a leader. Even though that meant Lorenz would have to trek to the _commoner’s _dorms ever morning, he felt it was one of the duties he needed to serve to the common-folk. Or some nonsense like that.

Claude groaned as he got ready for the day, headache only getting worse, but luckily the nausea was easing. He tripped over his clothes scattered on the floor, digging through the piles to find a complete school uniform. He threw it on, ran his hands through his hair, and all but stumbled out of his room. Students were grouped up in the hallway, waiting to walk to breakfast with their friends. He found Lorenz and Hilda leaning on the stone wall, seeming to already be chatting.

“OMG, Claude!” Hilda half-squealed in surprise, “You look awful!”

Lorenz looked Claude up and down with disdain, lip slightly curled, “I guess it’s too much to ask our _House Leader_ to look presentable for class, is it?”

Claude turned and stalked down the hallway, the two following suit, “It was a long night, Lorenz.”

“I know,” Lorenz stated matter-of-factly, “You do remember that we share a wall, correct? Bold of you to engage in such rowdy gatherings the night before lessons.”

“I blame Hilda,” Claude said flatly, “Who is probably as hungover as I am.” Hilda giggled.

“Of course I’m not, Claude,” Hilda slightly teased, “A lady has to know how to handle her liquor.”

“What?! How did you—"

Before he could finish his question as to how Hilda survived the night, despite killing a majority of the whiskey herself, Sylvain shoved into Claude and threw an arm around him.

“---and Claude was there! And she dragged us into her room _at night_!”

He was talking to Dimitri and Felix, who trailed a couple of feet behind them. Lorenz and Hilda threw Claude questioning looks but he didn’t get the chance to answer--

“I can not believe that!” Dimitri scorned with a furrowed brow, “Did she report you two to Seteth?”

“Nope, just gave us detentions,” Sylvain said smugly, folding his arms behind his head, “I think she likes me. Maybe I should transfer to her class.”

“And I don’t think she’ll let you if you keep _telling _people about it,” Claude retorted, “What good are secrets if everyone knows them?”

“Yeah, keep your mouth shut, Sylvain,” Felix seethed, “You’re lucky you didn’t get into actual trouble.”

“Claude, if I may,” Dimitri started a little calmer, “You’re a house leader here and the future leader of the Leicester Alliance. You should be more careful with your actions, lest word get back to your territory about your conduct.”

Now _that _peaked Lorenz’s attention, “What exactly did you do, _Claude? _Nothing to danger our territory, I hope!”

“_Relax!_” Claude cried out, “We just tried to prank Ashe, Teach caught us.” Claude knew he was leaving out a few details, but the look he shot at Sylvain told the guy to not put them back in.

“Oh, that’s so funny, Claude!” Hilda let out a fake laugh and threw a hand on his shoulder, “I can’t believe the Professor caught you guys!” The light-heartedness probably seemed genuine to everyone else, but Claude knew his best friend was just trying to diffuse the slight tension.

“Hmph, such recklessness,” was all that Lorenz murmured, not even looking at Claude for the rest of the walk.

They reached the dining hall and Claude let himself slip away from the group as they went to grab seats. He walked up to the bulletin board and skimmed his finger across the paper listing who was on cooking duty for the week. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Dedue was on thebreakfast shift. Even if this morning was going terribly, at least the food would be good.

* * *

Breakfast seemed to go by too fast and it was time for tactics lessons with Byleth. Their mission in Remire Village was fast approaching. Claude originally took a seat in the back, hoping to rest his eyes and soothe his head from the night before, but Professor Byleth decided that it was absolutely imperative that he sit in the front. She claimed that since he was House Leader, his leadership would be incredibly important in on the battlefield. It’s not like Claude could argue with her. He had no idea that his punishment started with the first class of the day.

Sitting in the front row proved pointless as they hadn’t learned anything new. Nobody knew what was happening to the people in Remire Village, so all bases needed to be covered. Teach had to essentially go over every tactic in the book, because even she didn’t know what was going to happen. She spent the whole lesson quizzing the class on how to react to specific attacks thrown at them and how to combat an everyday citizen. The lecture was interrupted about halfway through when there was a knock at the door.

Lysithea had scrambled to answer the door and prove herself useful. Unexpectedly, the bright red hair of Sylvain popped in, “Sorry to interrupt, I have a note from Manuela’s class.” Byleth wordlessly beckoned him to come in.

Sylvain strode up the aisle between desks, a rolled parchment in his hands, coming to a stop besides Claude in the front row.

“Oh hey, Professor!” he greeted cheerily, “You look even better in the daylight.” Claude sent a foot flying into the aisle and kicked Sylvain in the shin, “Ow!” They were already going to detention together, Sylvain’s incessant flirting would only make it worse.

Teach didn’t react to his words, as usual, and took the parchment from his hands. As her eyes flitted across the paper, her neutral expression turned into a confused frown. It reminded Claude of the one she gave him last night. Claude slowly retrieved his journal and scribbled his description of the emotion, given his drunken self forgot to. As if he could forget it at all.

“Thank you, Sylvain,” was all that Professor Byleth said. What was on that paper?

“Yep!” Sylvain answered shortly. He made his leave, shooting a wink at Hilda on his way out.

The lecture continued on as Teach had planned and she had allowed a couple minutes at the end of class for questions.

“Professor, this is kind of unrelated to the topic, but I have a question!” Hilda said, jutting her hand in the air. Wow, Hilda was participating in class? Byleth nodded at her to continue.

“So, like, battles are really important and everything, but morale is important too, wouldn’t you agree?” Hilda reasoned. Byleth nodded again.

“I think as a way to raise morale, we--” Hilda started, then paused to build anticipation, “--have a Golden Deer _sleepover_!” she sprung out of her seat and threw her hands in the air. There were a couple of positive murmurs throughout the class but Teach merely stared back blankly, which wasn’t unusual for her.

“Uh…is something wrong, Professor?” Hilda asked, shrinking a little bit.

“What’s a sleepover?” is all that Byleth asked.

“WHAAAAAT?!!” Hilda exploded and almost jumped on the table, “You’ve never had a sleepover?!”

“It’s when you stay up late with your friends, play games, have fun, and then sleep at their house,” Lysithea butted in, “I have them frequently since I have no siblings.”

“Oh, a sleepover sounds wonderful!” Flayn beamed, holding a hand over her heart, “I can’t say that I have ever had one!”

“Neither have I…” Marianne added quietly.

“Seriously?! Well, then we need to!” Hilda flailed, “Oh Professor, please say yes!”

“I used to have sleepovers all the time with my sister!” Raphael bellowed excitedly, “We’d sleep in a barn and see who could bench-press more hay bales! Will our sleepover be like that?”

“Ummm,” Lysithea began, arms-crossed, “I will skip the sleepover if we do that.”

“If the entire Golden Deer House is there,” Lorenz began, hands folded neatly in his lap, “Then wouldn’t we be spending the night in…” he cleared his throat,”…_mixed _company?”

“Lorenz, I swear!” Hilda started with a huff, “We’ve camped out on battlefields and fought for our lives together. I mean, I watched you fight, but I’m sure we’re mature enough to sleep in a single room for _one _night.”

“We could all be dead by the next battle, so I agree it’s pretty trivial,” Claude added thoughtfully.

“W-we’re going to die?” Ignatz asked, nervously gripping his seat.

“Claude, that’s _not _helpful,” Hilda derided, crossing her arms.

“Well,” Professor Byleth finally interjected, “Lorenz might be right. I don’t think Seteth will like the idea of you all sleeping in the same room. So, I don’t—”

“NO,” Flayn growled from her seat, causing her classmates to jump, her eyes wide in fury, “I am not letting my brother ruin this! Professor, we are having a sleepover, I will _make him _say yes.”

Everyone’s eyes flicked to Byleth (well, except Ignatz’s, who watched Flayn carefully) and she appeared to think the preposition over.

“Sure, I have no issue with it,” the room filled with delighted chatter and buzzed with excited energy.

“You’ll be there too, right Teach?” Claude asked. After all, this wasn’t just for fun, Hilda was the one who insisted that Claude made a special effort to bond with his teacher.

“I…I’m invited?” Professor Byleth asked.

“Professor, of course!” Hilda exclaimed, “You’re out there on the battlefield with us, your morale is important too.”

“Oh yes,” Lysithea cheered, “I would enjoy that very much!”

“I don’t know if it’s appropriate,” Byleth said with, what was…actual disappointment? “I really think Seteth would disapprove—”

“ENOUGH ABOUT MY BROTHER!” Flayn yelled, scaring everyone into silence. She then cleared her throat and added, more calmly, “It is imperative that we are all there to boost morale, including you, Professor. I will take care of my brother.”

If Claude looked closely enough, he could see the hint of a smile on Byleth’s face. It was small, but it had potential.

“Well, sure. I’ll go.” Small cheers filled the room.

“Great! Now that we’re all in agreement, who’s gonna plan it?” Hilda asked, only to be met with blank stares, “Oh, come on!” she whined, “Why do I have to do all of the work?!”

“Hilda,” Lorenz began condescendingly, “You were the one who proposed it.”

“How about,” Claude interrupted, “We split up tasks and help plan together, deal?”

That seemed to be a great idea, everyone murmured in agreement. There’s some classic Golden Deer leadership for ya!

Though Claude was attending (and somehow helping organize, thanks Hilda) the sleepover for research purposes, he felt a tiny hint of excitement at the idea. He didn’t know why, but he was excited nonetheless.

* * *

Bonding. This was supposed to be bonding night. Byleth didn’t know why it took half of a school year for Seteth to decide _now _was the time the knights and faculty should spend more time together, but she supposed maybe their peaceful nights were numbered. Or equally likely, Seteth actually felt bad about Byleth’s situation and wanted her to make more friends.

Manuela decided to take everyone out on what she called a “pub crawl”. Of course, Byleth knew what a pub was and had been to them many times, mostly to watch her dad drink. However, she was always too nervous to drink herself, scared of getting jumped or needing to fight. She would instead happily accompany her father and their band of mercenaries celebrate a successful battle.

She recalled Sylvain swaggering into her classroom earlier in the week and handing her the invite, no, the summons. Byleth had unrolled the paper to reveal a hand-written note that read—

“Faculty bonding Friday night! And no, it’s not optional! Meet at the market an hour after dinner that evening, we’ll all leave together!

\--Manuela”

The parchment smelled like perfume and Manuela’s name had an elaborate heart drawn next to it. Even the simplest notes were over-the-top.

Nevertheless, Byelth marched alongside Seteth, Manuela, Alois, Hanneman, Shamir, Catherine, and Jeralt. What a group they were. Jeralt typically wasn’t one for huge social gatherings, but when he heard that _his _daughter was going on a pub crawl, he had to come. Byleth could not think of another time when all of them had gathered like this. She hoped they would only meet together in times of peace, whether it be training, personnel meetings, or just going to bars. Dark times certainly seemed to loom.

Byleth chuckled under her breath. She had just disciplined Sylvain and Claude for drinking and now she was about to do it herself. What a hypocrite. She clutched her cloak a little closer to her body as the group passed through the monastery gates, venturing into the town below.

They had all gotten to their first pub and quickly filled the bar stools. Drinks started flowing as did conversation and soon enough, Byleth wasn’t too sure they’d make it to any other pubs at all. Jeralt and Alois sat to her sides, drinks in hand, happily yapping on about war stories. Alois recounted tales of Jeralt’s greatness, which mostly made her father blush.

“This one’s on me!” Catherine suddenly appeared and forced a pint in front of Byleth, “To thank you for training some future knights.”

“Uh, thank you,” Byleth said, slowly placing her palm on the handle.

Byleth’s eyes flicked between Jeralt and the stein of beer forced into her hand. He just watched her for a minute before chuckling, “Well, are you going to drink it?”

“…yes, of course,” Byleth took a hesitant sip of the beer and was immediately unimpressed. It was bitter but it didn’t burn at all. People really got inebriated off of this stuff? Byleth took a long swig and cleared half of her stein. She slammed down the half-empty glass a little too hard and swiped foam off of her lip. Byleth looked back at Jeralt and his eyebrows were raised in astonishment.

Alois let out a roaring laugh at her side and clapped a hand on her shoulder, “Looks like she got her father’s drinking skills after all!”

Jeralt snorted in return before taking a sip of his own drink, “Maybe she did.”

Byleth had no problem finishing the pint and soon enough, another glass was shoved into her hands. This time, Alois was the supplier, trying to test her drinking ability. Byleth didn’t feel drunk at all, though, her face was getting hot and she felt a little sleepy. The group played musical chairs as they switched seats and Byleth had ended up next to Manuela.

“Got another man to buy you a drink, nice move,” Manuela slyly noted as she sipped on her martini.

“Oh, it wasn’t like that—” Byleth started to explain.

“Oh, no need to explain to me! I’ve conned a man out of a drink or two before,” Manuela noted with a wink, “Besides you’ve got a gorgeous face, I’m sure your suitors are more than happy to buy you drinks.”

That statement took Byleth aback. She certainly didn’t have any suitors and she definitely didn’t consider herself…gorgeous? Not to say she thought she was ugly either. Sure, she had a face, but she didn’t really consider its beauty or lack thereof.

“Oh, I’m not really…courting at the moment,” Byleth explained.

“Why?!”

“It’s just not a priority right now,” Byleth stated, which was completely true. With students to train and an upcoming mission to worry about, it simply wasn’t something Byleth thought of.

“Oh, darling, you have to find someone,” Manuela warned, putting a hand on her shoulder, “I don’t want you to end up like Shamir or Catherine! All they do is fight and train, leaving no room for finding a man.”

She looked at Catherine and Shamir leaning close to each other and Byleth didn’t think that their service as knights were the reason they didn’t find men. Byleth shrugged.

“Is the problem finding someone?” Manuela implored further, “Just list off people that you find attractive and we’ll pick someone out for you!”

Byleth scanned her mind of every person she knew, she couldn’t really think of anyone.

_Oh, I can think of someone_, came the nagging voice of Sothis.

_Please share with the class then_, Byleth stifled an eyeroll.

_Well, you didn’t seem to mind when a certain Golden Deer was pressed up against you_… Sothis hinted not so subtly.

_I was attacking him, I had to do it, _Byleth defended.

_Yeah, but usually when you attack someone you don’t have time to note how nice their chest feels, or the certain way they smell, or—_

_Enough!_

_You can’t lie to me, Byleth, I’m in your head._

Byleth felt her face grow even hotter and nervously took a swig of her beer. Manuela cocked up an eyebrow.

“Well, who do you find attractive?”

“No one, actually!” Byleth tried to fake light-heartedness, “You’re right, I’m too distracted with training,” she lied.

Manuela seemed to brush it off and said a little too loud, “Well, that’s fine, I needed someone to set up with Seteth anyway.”

“I beg your parden!” Seteth called from across the bar, already sounding offended.

“Seteth, we’re finding you a woman!” Manuela called back.

The rest of the night seemed to go well, by Byleth’s standards. Seteth and Manuela bantered, Shamir and Catherine stopped bar fights, Jeralt and Alois tried to outdrink each other, and Hanneman quizzed her about her crest.

Byleth didn’t remember much of the walk home, besides that it seemed shorter than their walk into town. She clung to her father’s arm the whole way back, embarrassed by her lack of balance. It was supposed to be colder out, but Byleth didn’t feel it at all and hardly needed her cloak. She began to let go of her dad’s arm once her quarters were in sight.

“Woah, you sure you don’t need me to walk you back?” Jeralt asked, trying to reel her back in.

“Dad, ’m not a c-child, ‘m fine,” she peeled her father’s arm off of her and continued to sway towards her room.

Jeralt let out a rare, hearty laugh as Byleth stomped to her quarters, figuring she would make it alive.

“But you’re a mouthy drunk!” he called after her. She waved him off.

Byleth learned a lot tonight. One, she learned that she could not hold her alcohol well. Sure, she could drink fast but it would all catch up to her just as quickly. Luckily, she had been able to hide it by not speaking too much, but yeah, she was inebriated.

Two, maybe making friends wouldn’t be so hard. She thought bonding night may have actually served a purpose. Actually taking the time to talk to people outside of classes and battles, what a concept.

Three, alcohol must have caused hallucinations. Byleth swung open the door to her quarters and found herself face-to-face with…Claude? This wasn’t real.

“Hey, Teach. Nice night.”

And for the second time that week, Byleth found herself slamming Claude von Riegen into a wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Repeat after me:  
CLAUDE/SYLVAIN SUPPORT IN DLC!!!  
CLAUDE/SYLVAIN SUPPORT IN DLC!!!  
CLAUDE/SYLVAIN SUPPORT IN DLC!!!  
CLAUDE/SYLVAIN SUPPORT IN DLC!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	4. The Pouch

It was another free night, which meant that the students flocked to the second floor dorms. It was a lot easier to sneak there after hours due to the heavy patrols outside. Doors were propped open and welcoming as students floated from room to room, laughing together and venting about their day. It was completely unacceptable as students weren’t allowed to be in each other’s rooms after dark, but it’s not like they really had a choice. There were no common rooms for students to exist in without needing a reason to be there. The dining hall perhaps, but once the kitchens are closed then so is the building. 

Claude remembers bringing up the issue to Seteth--

“If any student finds themselves with free time, they should spend it training or studying in the library,” Seteth would say, “I see no reason why students would need to congregate after school hours. They should be in bed preparing for the next day.”

Some house leader Claude was. He couldn’t even get a room for students to sit in. It made Claude incredibly frustrated. Every moment of their lives at the academy revolved around how useful they would be in a battle. If they relaxed at all, then they should feel guilty. Sure, the whole reason they were there was to learn how to fight, but there had to be more to life than that. Claude loved battle strategy more than anyone he knew, but the whole point of war is to ultimately create peace—to not have to worry about the next fight. What good is peace if all you fixate on is war?

At least his fellow students understood. Their way of getting around the rules was to spend their time together anyway and make two people keep guard at the end of the hall on free nights. If someone came, the guard-students would alert the others. Everyone would keep quiet, extinguish their candles, and huddle in their rooms until the real guards stepped away. Claude argued that it was great stealth practice. There was a whole schedule and everything, which was surprisingly Edelgard’s idea.

Claude recalled that it was Ignatz and Raphael on makeshift guard duty tonight, and he could see them seated on the floor at the end of the hall. Ignatz seemed to have a sketch pad while Raphael was whittling something Claude couldn’t make out.

Students chatted animatedly from their dorms but Claude had no interest in socializing tonight. Staying in the rooms every night got incredibly dull and he was curious if the monastery had any secrets to share this evening. He decided he would make his rounds through his favorite hiding sports and listen for them.

Claude did his best to walk briskly down the hall and almost started sprinting when he heard Hilda’s bubbly laughter tumbling out of Marianne’s room. It proved to be a fruitless effort.

“Oh, no you don’t, Claude!” Hilda shouted after him. Claude groaned and came to a halt. He whipped his head around to see Hilda standing in Marianne’s doorway. She had taken out her pigtails and wore nothing but a short, fluffy white robe. He chuckled to himself and knew Seteth would have been absolutely shocked. He would have launched into a drawling lecture on how inappropriate it was for a woman and man to see each other in a state of unproper dress blah blah blah.

“Where do you think _you’re_ going?” Hilda asked, almost sounding offended. She stuck a hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes.

“Nowhere in particular,” Claude said with a shrug.

“I know what that means,” Hilda said, tossing her hair behind her shoulder, “Well before you go sneak off to nowhere, you gotta help us plan the sleepover.”

“Sleepover planning isn’t really my forte,” Claude started to say, slowly backing away, “I trust whatever you pick is fine.”

“Claude! You’re our house leader!” Hilda exclaimed, eyebrows flying up, “You have to help!”

“But Hilda, you’re so much better at parties!” Claude attempted to reason, “Your presence and social prowess absolutely lights up the room!” Usually if Claude buttered her up enough, she could be swayed. Using her own tactics against her, a genius move on his part.

“Nice try!” Hilda scoffed, “How come you guys make me do everything?! That’s the exact opposite of what I want to do,” Hilda crossed her arms and huffed, “Besides, we’re all supposed to be splitting the work. Can you at least pick the day, oh-mighty-house-leader?”

Claude sighed. He knew he wouldn’t be able to leave until he answered her. “Why don’t we do it right after we get back from Remire Village?”

Hilda crinkled her nose, “I thought our whole excuse for the sleepover was that it would build morale for the fight. Why would the professor agree to that?”

“Gives people something to look forward to,” Claude shrugged, “Something to survive the battle for.”

“I guess there really isn’t time for one _before _we march…” Hilda tapped a finger against her lips and cocked her head, “Fine. That’s a surprisingly good idea, Mr. House Leader,” she smiled, “Who knew you’d have great ideas sometimes?”

“A _genuine_ half-compliment?! From Hilda?!” Claude clutched at her heart dramatically, “I’ll remember this day forever.”

“You’re such a loser,” Hilda rolled her eyes, “And _all_ of my compliments are genuine, I’ll have you know!”

“Oh, I definitely believe that,” Claude snorted, backing away again, “But now I must be off to nowhere, my lady.”

“Whatever, bye!” Hilda tried to sound annoyed but couldn’t stifle her giggle.

Claude continued his increasingly lengthy journey down the hallway. He stopped by Ignatz and Raphael before he disappeared. Whenever the two boys had guard duty together, it was “craft night”. They were both making depictions of the goddess. Ignatz drew a beautiful sketch of a woman, an ethereal beauty more enchanting than any person they had ever seen. Raphael carved a wooden figurine that might look human if you tilted your head a certain way, held it at the right angle, and extinguished all of the candles in the room.

Claude had designated hidey holes all throughout the monastery fit for his spying and scheming purposes. After all, great strategists need to know their own defenses inside and out. If anyone were to march on the monastery, knowledge of his own base was imperative.

He sleuthed a bit aimlessly throughout the monastery, but he didn’t mind. Claude loved how peaceful the grounds were during the night. The cold seasons had come and hints of snow with it, frost twinkling on the monastery greens. Claude made sure to step in places where the frost had missed—skilled at covering his own tracks.

He hoisted his way up to one of his hidey spots above the gates to the monastery, it was one of his favorite ones. All the way at the top of the tower, he could see sprawling landscapes and the twinkling lights of the town at the bottom of the hill. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the frigid air. This was the sort of peace Claude could fight for.

His peace was short-lived as he heard surprisingly cheery voices below. He popped his head out of the window and spotted a very unlikely group. He saw some knights, Professor Hanneman, Professor Manuela, Jeralt, Seteth…Claude couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Of course Seteth would ban the students to their rooms while he got to go wherever he pleased.

A bobbing head of dark hair caught Claude’s attention. Byleth looked over and smiled at something her father—a simple grin he’s been seeing more often. She was leaving with them too? Byleth never really left the monastery, but she was smiling, so it couldn’t be bad. Where were they all going? Claude’s heart skipped a beat and his mind started racing a million miles a minute. If they were all here, that means that their own quarters were empty. This was the golden snooping opportunity of a lifetime! So many rooms open for Claude to browse at his own leisure!

He didn’t know where they were going but suddenly he didn’t care. He de-scaled the tower and practically flew across the monastery. _All _of the professors gone at the same time?! The stars will never align like this again. The monastery was always empty at night besides merchants packing up in the marketplace or guards doing their routine patrols. However, Claude knew the patrols by heart, so he wasn’t particularly concerned about them.

His first stop was Professor Hanneman’s office. He knew Professor Hanneman had an entire collection of ancient books and scrolls about precious crest research that were forbidden to mere students. Claude’s heart pounded faster at the thought of it. Claude began rummaging through the drawers of the aged desk and found research about Byleth. Apparently Professor Hanneman was just as interested in Byleth as Claude was. But of course he was. He’s the leading crest researcher of Fódlan, why wouldn’t he be? It made Claude’s stomach knot uncomfortably and he wasn’t sure why. He furrowed his brows and thumbed through the notes.

Most of the research was stuff Claude figured out on his own, Crest of Flames thought to be extinct, Sword of the Creator can only be used by her, unmatchable power, yadda yadda. According to the papers, Byleth had agreed to assist Professor Hanneman with his research and met with him frequently to run his various tests on her. The thought of it made Claude frown and furrow his brows. Would she have been willing to help him with his own research too? Research on the power he intended to use?

But why did that matter? He came to the same conclusions. Here he was, with unlimited access to incredibly rare books he’d been dying to read, but only Byleth to be concerned about. Did he really not have anything else to research? Claude tried to come up with literally anything else he could gain from the books but his mind was jumbled with thoughts of his dear professor. He eventually resorted to just swiping a couple of texts to look at later. Hopefully he’d have them back before Professor Hanneman even noticed. Claude slipped out of the office, feeling oddly defeated.

He felt no need to stop by Professor Manuela’s office. Any secrets to be found in there were probably better left untouched. He thought about going through Seteth’s office to find the secrets of the church he so desperately longed for. It was intoxicatingly tempting. But he also knew that Lady Rhea liked to spend late nights in the same office doing work for the church. Getting caught by her after hours was a bit too much of a risk for Claude.

He stopped by Captain Jeralt’s office and snuck inside. He didn’t really know what he was looking for, but he figured he may as well take advantage of the opportunity. Jeralt was kept in the dark about matters of the church almost as much as Claude was, though he was certain they were equally suspicious of Rhea. Claude set his stolen texts on the desk and ran his finger along the bookshelves. He saw tactics textbooks, stories of war, old battle records, nothing Claude was a stranger to, no book Jeralt wouldn’t just let him borrow. They could be useful, but they were by no means confidential. Claude wandered back over to the desk and sorted through Jeralt’s stuff. The Captain’s desk was surprisingly bare, only containing notes and reports of battles fought this year on the church’s behalf.

Claude pulled a drawer open to find a small pouch with a note beside it. He read the note—

_Self,_

_Don’t forget, give to Byleth for her special one_

For her special one? Claude picked up the small pouch and undid the lacings. He tipped the pouch over and a silver ring bounced into his hand. He turned the ring over and saw small purple gems arranged in a starburst at the top of the ring. Without even thinking, he slipped the ring on his index finger. It wouldn’t go past his first knuckle. He spun it absentmindedly on his finger and watched it shine in the dull candle light. For her special one…

Oh Goddess. Claude was an idiot. His fingers began to tremble. He quickly fumbled the ring off and back into the pouch. Was it bad luck or just poor taste to put on someone else’s _engagement ring_? For Byleth’s special one. Why did Jeralt _need _to give this to her? Did she need it now? Did she already have a special one? Claude’s heart quickened as he shut the pouch back in the drawer. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable and a little nauseous, he scooped up his stolen books and made his quick escape from Captain Jeralt’s quarters.

Claude crept his way back to the dorms but before he took the steps to the second floor, he figured there was somewhere else he should look. Just to be thorough.

Breaking into Byleth’s room was pretty easy. She was the only person to think to lock her door, but it was the same locks on all of the students’ rooms. He’s been breaking into students’ dorms since his first day at the monastery. Just like Jeralt’s quarters, he didn’t really know what he was looking for and just like Jeralt’s quarters, there wasn’t much to find. He looked around the room and found lesson plans, weapons that needed repairs, old notes on a bulletin board, nothing of consequence. Luckily, no more engagement rings. Disappointingly dull.

Tired from the day, he turned and flopped down on Byleth’s bed. The comforter smelled like her (duh, it’s her bed). It was at that moment Claude realized he had actually memorized her scent—cucumber and green tea. He couldn’t say what Lorenz or Sylvain smelled like, but he knew how Byleth did. He remembered the woodsy smell of his childhood home, the musky aroma of the monastery library, and the sickly sweet scent of his best friend, Hilda. All people and places dear to him, how did Byleth make the list if he didn’t trust her? He reasoned his suspicion of her made it more memorable.

From the bed, he looked up at the owl, silently watching him. Maybe this was Claude’s chance to finally get an owl of his own. Claude chuckled to himself, there really wasn’t a point in coming here. If Byleth was hiding something, she wouldn’t even know what it was. He got up from the bed and went to get the books he stole from Hanneman.

Without warning, the door flew open and Byleth stalked in. He froze. She froze. They stared.

Then Byleth charged at Claude and threw him against the wall. There it was—the cucumber and green tea.

“Claude?!” Byleth exclaimed. She had both of his wrists pinned to the hard stone behind him, her cheeks and lips flushed from the cold.

“Teach, we gotta stop meeting like this,” Claude coolly remarked, trying to conceal how genuinely frightened he was. He prayed she couldn’t feel how fast his pulse was through his wrists.

Byleth didn’t add anything else, she just cocked her head and stared at him. Claude looked into her eyes and saw how glazed over they were. Her hold on his wrists seemed less and less like self-defense and more like her using him for support.

“Wait, Teach, are you…drunk?” Claude teased. Byleth snorted.

“You’re obnoxious.”

“You are, aren’t you?!”

“Why are you ‘n my room?”

“I asked my question first.”

“No,” Byleth retorted simply. But her slight sway closer into him said otherwise.

“Wooooow,” Claude laughed, “You hypocrite! I get drunk and I get punished, but you do and it’s fine?”

“Why are you in my room?” Byleth repeated, her grip on Claude’s wrists growing tighter.

Claude’s brain scrambled for a reason, his eyes darted around for_ something_.

“I found those books and thought they might belong to Hanneman,” Claude lied, “I couldn’t find him in his quarters, so I looked for you.” Byleth looked over her shoulder at the books on her desk.

“Oh…” She let go of Claude’s wrists and let her arms drop to her sides. She wobbled towards the books and lightly placed her fingers on them, staring at them. After a moment, she crossed over and threw herself down on her bed. She ripped her shoes off and pulled the covers over herself. Claude hesitated and stayed pressed against the wall, not daring to move.

It had been several minutes and Byleth said nothing, so he assumed she had fallen asleep. Desperate to not wake her, he crept across the room and placed his hand on the door--

“Why don’t you trust me?”

Claude peaked over her shoulder and saw her half-lidded gaze at him.

“I know you don’t,” she said softly. He couldn’t tell what she was feeling. He never could. She gave her signature blank stare, expecting an answer.

“I do trust you,” Claude stated as lightly as he could.

“Don’t lie to me,” Byleth scoffed, “I know you don’t.”

Claude opened his mouth to say something but no words fell from his lips.

“I trust you, if that makes it better,” Byleth said earnestly, “I trust you with my life.”

“Why?”

“I wouldn’t take you to battle if I didn’t,” Byleth stated, closing her eyes. Of course. He was good in a fight, a reliable soldier. Her trust depends on matters of war, the only thing the monastery valued.

“Someday you’ll believe me. We’ll get there,” She said it like it was a fact.

Claude turned to leave again, wary.

“Oh,” Byleth caught him, “And take those books. I promise I won’t tell Hanneman as long as you get them back in two days.”

He looked back at her.

“Trust me,” Her grin grew even wider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for lack of an update! I'm going to try to update weekly now. :)


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